


into corners and dart about

by Katherine



Category: The Lost Prince - Frances Hodgson Burnett
Genre: Character acquires pet rats; everything's great; rats are great, M/M, Pet Rats, Post-Canon, Rats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine
Summary: Jem Ratcliffe, called The Rat, had lately been made an honorary general but he was still a boy with a boy's love of harmless secrets.
Relationships: Marco Loristan/The Rat
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	into corners and dart about

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).



Jem Ratcliffe, called The Rat, had lately been made an honorary general but he was still a boy with a boy's love of harmless secrets. He slipped away to the chambers of the prince who was his dearest friend.

Marco had mentioned, casually, that he would be expected to have a favourite horse, and then said, with some wistfulness, that he would like to have a pet of his own. The Rat imagined that nobles would send horses and hounds, and whatever else, as presents to the new prince of Samavia, as many had already sent other gifts.

Now The Rat took in Marco's chambers with quick glances, looking for the pet that Marco had whispered to him to come see; in such matters of boylike pastimes rather than royal ones, Marco and The Rat had secret signals and ways of telling each other things in two or three hissed words.

There was no visible companion, no sounds that The Rat could hear made by padding paws or thumping tail. Marco was curled up comfortably in one of the big armchairs. When Marco's look granted permission, for he indulged The Rat's joy in private meaning, The Rat sat down on the cushioned footstool that he himself preferred.

"I decided not a dog," Marco said with a laugh as The Rat looked upwards at him. One of Marco's full sleeves twitched, the velvet bunching, and there was a tiny sound, nearer a vibration than a cry. A small whiskered nose showed at Marco's wrist, then his new pet emerged entirely, curling in Marco's cupped hand. Glossy brown fur and a trailing narrow tail.

"You see," Marco said earnestly, "I like those that creep through holes, that can be small and secret." He brought up his other hand to gently stroke from between the small ears and along his pet's high back.

Marco, the prince of Samavia, had chosen a rat. There had to be meaning in that. Marco was smiling, at the rat and The Rat both, his expression warm with affection.

*

The Rat had his welcome closeness now, night after night, and this evening was at peace, resting his head on Marco's thigh. He would, he knew, have been welcome to share the armchair, but preferred his place on the footstool, the positioning declaring his loving loyalty to his prince.

He watched with half-closed eyes as one rat balanced on Marco's shoulder. Another, the pied one, scampered up his chest, tiny claws finding purchase in the rich embroidery. The third rat was somewhere under the footstool; he could hear the sounds it made on the carpet, and the occasional experimental scrape of ever-growing teeth against the footstool's wooden feet.

The brown and white rat reached Marco's face, sniffing curiously at his mouth. Marco nudged the rat away with one very gentle finger. "Now, I don't need kisses from a rat." He tipped his face downwards to meet his love's gaze, smiling so sweetly as he said, "Only from The Rat."


End file.
